We unrolled it, poked sticks through the holes at each end to use as handles and faced each other, like old style lumberjacks. Then we laid the saw against the trunk of a tree and started to scrape it back and forth. It was ridiculously hard going: the stick-handles kept breaking and every time the saw got stuck in the tree, we had to painstakingly work it free: if the saw snapped, we were dead. After sawing for ten minutes, we’d barely made it through the bark.

But gradually, we got into a rhythm and began to see progress. We sawed until our shoulders and backs burned and our arms were limp noodles and finally the tree crashed to the ground. We looked at each other with a weak smile of victory, too tired to even high-five.

We gave ourselves a five minute rest and then started sawing the tree into logs. By the time we’d finished, the sky was pitch black and the stars were diamond-bright above us. It was breathtakingly cold.

We needed kindling but everything in the forest was damp from the snow. Danny thought for a while and then pulled a thick, blocky something from his backpack. I squinted in the moonlight and then blinked in amazement when I saw the dragon on the front. “You bought it?!”

Despite everything, he cracked a grin. “I said I would.”

I just stared at him in wonder, warmth expanding in my chest and stealing my words.

He tore off the cover and crumpled it into a ball. “Don’t worry,” he told me seriously. “I’m about two hundred pages in.”

I helped him build the fire. “So Vessia’s met Thassius?”

“Oh, I’m well past that. She’s already tricked the prince into bringing his army across the river. I’m at the bit where Thassius—”

“Teaches her how to go invisible!” we said together. I was beyond amazed. He hadn’t just bought it and read it, he was enjoying it. We got the fire going and started to build it up while we talked about the book. The cold, the night, the soldiers looking for us…all of it receded, for a while. I read a lot, but it had been a long time since I’d been able to share a book. “Wait till you meet Vessia’s sister,” I told him.

“When does that happen?”

“Not until book seven.”

“Book seven?” He weighed the book in his hand. “How many of these are there?”

“Twenty-three, but she’s still writing.”

Danny rubbed at his chin, his stubble rasping. “I’ve got a lot of reading to do,” he mumbled thoughtfully.